


And In My Dreams

by howelllesters



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Cinderella-esque, Fluff, Kissing at Midnight, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Years, Phan Fluff, love actually-esque, musician!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9166711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/howelllesters/pseuds/howelllesters
Summary: I Wish You Merry Christmas: Phil Lester, begrudingly attending work’s Christmas Eve party, happens upon Dan Howell, famous musician and not someone Phil’s a fan of. Cue awkward dancing, near-kisses, and a taxi that leaves at midnight sharp.Happy New Year, Too:  Phil Lester, huge fan of New Year’s Eve parties where everyone has a good time with minimal drama, not such a big fan of people ringing his doorbell persistently. Dan Howell, huge fan of being booked for concerts and actually attending them, until now.Hints of Cinderella, a sprinkle of Love Actually, and a bunch of festive goodness.





	1. I Wish You Merry Christmas

Oh how Phil hated Christmas parties.

Actually, that was a lie. He didn’t hate all Christmas parties, he just hated the annual Christmas party that work held each year. Four hours of standing at the side of the room, his drink going warm in his hand, making small talk when people bothered to glance his way, and listening to a horrific mess of music.

This was the problem when a radio station hosted a party. Everyone thought they were a DJ, because, well, they were, so there was constant disagreement over what was sounding through the room. Phil would personally have been pretty happy with just Christmas songs and the odd cheesy classic, which he would feign a grimace through and pretend his bad knee wasn’t up to such moves.

At twenty four, he personally would have been concerned if his knee was that screwed up, but thankfully the work Christmas party was never usually too different to work itself, so no one paid him much attention.

“Ready?” PJ grinned, clapping Phil on the back. 

He was round at PJ’s for pre-drinks, him and a few others at the station, who weren’t particularly high-ranking, and as such, found friendship amongst themselves for no reason other than social status. Well, for the most part. PJ was actually a decent friend, and the only person Phil saw out of work on a regular basis.

Really, Phil ought to be looking for another job, because he was miserable as hell in this one, but every time he typed out a letter of resignation, he reminded himself that he was at the biggest radio station in the country, and even if he wasn’t appreciated at the moment, he could get somewhere one day. He had only been there for a few years, after all.

“Can’t wait,” Phil tried to smile back, fiddling with his thin leather bracelet nervously.

“Don’t over-exert yourself,” PJ laughed loudly, the festive spirit and several glasses of red having gone straight to his head and his cheeks. His eyes were sparkling, and Phil was kind of envious of him. He was actually looking forward to this thing, unlike Phil, who would rather be in his bed, watching a bad Christmas film before driving to his parents first thing in the morning.

Admittedly no-one was forcing him to go to a party on Christmas Eve, but Phil had sensed even from year one that not going was definitely a bad move, and didn’t win any favours with the top bosses. Besides, this year was going to be bigger and better than ever, according to the email they’d all been sent, the station having managed to somehow get away with pretending this was some sort of VIP party. As a result, Phil knew that quite a few music artists, producers, and others in the industry would be there, which he hoped at least meant the music wouldn’t be quite so disastrous.

He still didn’t know how they’d snagged such big names, but they had, and as a result, Phil would be rubbing shoulders with some of the most impressive people in music. He had to go for networking purposes, if nothing else.

“Taxis are here!” someone yelled from the front door, as a cacophony of car horns sounded, and they all piled out of PJ’s tiny apartment and into the freezing Christmas Eve air. It wasn’t snowing, but the wind was bitter, and Phil shivered as he clambered into the cab next to PJ, checking once more that he had his wallet, keys, phone, and unfortunately, mask.

Masquerade ball.

Utterly ridiculous.

He and PJ had made a deal that they’d go matching, so they’d at least look as foolish as each other. Phil had a fairly discreet black satin piece, that just covered his eyes and nose. He personally felt as though it were more superhero than black-tie-event, but he wasn’t complaining. PJ had exactly the same but in white, for the sole reason that he’d lost the game of rock, paper, scissors they’d held in the store.

Phil smirked to himself briefly at the memory. An epic victory for paper everywhere.

It took them fifteen minutes to reach the venue, which was a major step-up from last year. The hotel was one of London’s most luxurious, and Phil dreaded to think how much one room cost, let alone hiring out the entirety of one of the floors. He’d found the twenty quid taxi fare eye-watering.

Per instructions, the radio employees obediently headed in through one of the side doors. There was a bit of grumbling, but Phil didn’t mind one bit. He had no desires to join the rich and famous out on the red carpet, where he most definitely didn’t belong, and would undoubtedly be captured on camera doing something awful like falling over or walking into someone. No, the side door suited him just fine.

Screams erupted as they piled out of the cars, and PJ glanced across the crowds to try and catch sight of who was responsible.

“I think Dan Howell just arrived,” he laughed, and Phil rolled his eyes, beckoning his friend to follow him in.

He’d never personally met Dan Howell, but by all accounts he didn’t sound like someone he wanted to. Current darling of the British music industry, he was poised to take over America and the rest of the world with his incredible voice and piano-playing skills. Even Phil could admit that he sounded good, though after being exposed to him week after week, his hits were starting to grate.

As a person though, Dan seemed terribly up himself. His voice was unbearable, and even as he joked about it being articulate and not posh, Phil wanted to deck him one. His voice was posh, end of. In every interview he put on some fake display of modesty and bashfulness, but Phil had been to a few of his concerts for reporting before now, and he could honestly say that when Dan was on stage flirting with his crowd, there was nothing shy about the man.

Once he’d passed him in the corridors of the station and happened to trip over his own foot at the same time, because what would Phil’s life be without a daily embarrassment, and Dan Howell had snorted at him and then carried on. Maybe that was why Phil disliked him. He could pretend all he wanted that it was about Dan’s personality, but ultimately, Howell had laughed at Phil, and he would harbour an irrational grudge against him for that probably until the end of time.

The inside of the party had so many lights, Phil had an immediate headache, and enough tinsel to constitute a serious fire hazard. PJ caught him grimacing and elbowed him in the ribs as they went to hang their coats up.

“Lighten up, Lester!” he chided, shaking his head at his friend. “It’s Christmas!”

Phil just laughed, and bobbed his head towards the bar in an invitation his friend accepted. The open bar was his main incentive for being here, he couldn’t lie.

It wasn’t that Phil disliked Christmas, far from it. His tree had been up since the beginning of the month, and he was the one who insisted his entire family wear their Christmas jumpers each year, but he just couldn’t be doing with the falsified festivities put on by work.

With a beer in hand, PJ and Phil made their way over to the side to scout out the room, and really see what was going on. It was still fairly early, but Phil had to admit he was pretty impressed with some of the people circulating the room. Not everyone was wearing masks, while others were easily recognisable despite them, obvious given their outfits and company. The place itself did look beautiful, no less than three function rooms all leading off from one another decked from floor to ceiling in Christmas pieces. He could count six trees in this room alone.

“Ah, promised I’d meet Chris, from HR, that okay?” PJ said suddenly, catching sight of someone from across the room and waving.

“Yeah, sure,” Phil laughed. “Go for it.”

“Don’t forget taxis are booked for twelve, if I don’t find you again.”

“I’ll see you at midnight,” Phil reassured him, and then gestured for PJ to leave. “Go on then.”

As much as Phil hated his friend leaving his side, he wasn’t selfish enough to keep him to himself. PJ spent day in day out with Phil, the two of them working on the computers in the vast IT department, as well as several weekends. God knows he probably needed a break from Phil.

For half an hour, Phil lingered in the same spot, reluctant to move. He was pretty much in the shadows, and very few people had disturbed him. He knew that he couldn’t stay here all evening, but he could probably last another quarter of an hour or so before he could move to a different patch of darkness by a different wall. This was how Phil usually spent work functions, just moving from one awkward position to another. He supposed he should be grateful for the immensity of the venue, giving him plenty of options for hovering.

Eventually his beer ran dry, and Phil needed another drink. Standing with an empty glass was a level he wasn’t quite willing to stoop to yet. By now the party was in full swing, decent music playing by an external DJ much to Phil’s relief. He made his way towards the bar, weaving in and out of people, trying to make himself invisible despite his unusually tall stature. Mostly people paid him no attention, which was good.

There were so many people here by now, and more arriving by the minute. It was great for blending in, but less good for setting Phil’s mind at ease. Midnight couldn’t come fast enough.

“Sorry,” Phil mumbled as he walked straight into someone, just as they muttered it right back.

Phil glanced up to smile at the person politely, but stopped in his tracks as he realised he was looking at Dan Howell, who was smiling back at him sheepishly. Dan looked as if it he was about to say something, but Phil knew engaging in conversation would be dangerous. Willing his brain not to say something ridiculous, Phil just shook his head at him as if it were no worries, and then hurried on his way, congratulating himself on not opening his mouth. He should’ve known he’d bump into the man at some point tonight, it was just Phil’s luck.

He opted for a water this time, already feeling a little lightheaded from all the shots they’d done at PJ’s, and then looked around for a new lurking spot. There was a promising alcove of darkness across the room, so Phil made a beeline for it, trying not to throw water over any of the expensive suits and dresses he brushed past.

“Holy shit,” someone yelped as Phil edged into the alcove, and Phil jumped out of his skin, some water sloshing over his shoes.

“What the hell?” Phil said, mainly to himself, and peering into the darkness only to find another figure hiding in there exactly as he’d been planning to.

“I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, sorry,” the voice said, sounding apologetic. “You just scared me. I thought I’d escaped the crowds.”

“Yeah, me too,” Phil muttered, straining his eyes as he tried to work out if he recognised any of the other socially awkward people he worked with. “Sorry to intrude. I’ll go find a different hiding place.”

“It’s okay,” the other person laughed, and Phil was sure his voice sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. Probably one of the technicians he saw infrequently. “We can hide together if you want.”

“Misery loves company,” Phil said dryly, and then clapped a hand over his mouth. Well if that wasn’t a surefire way to lose his job…

“Parties not your thing?” the other person asked, taking Phil by surprise. Not that he’d expected anyone to inform him that they’d be snitching, but he hadn’t expected someone to share the same opinion.

“I don’t mind parties,” Phil shrugged, even though the other man definitely couldn’t see. He leaned against the wall, figuring he could be here for a little while. Phil found he didn’t mind too much - sure he wasn’t one for being on the dancefloor, but he was capable of holding conversation, and if this other person was okay with hiding from everyone, well that was something they had in common already. “Just not a fan of huge parties where everyone pretends to like each other one day a year.”

The man choked on his drink and let out a loud laugh, and Phil smiled to himself, telling himself it was because he was pleased he’d been humourous, and not because he liked that laugh.

“I get that,” the man said after he’d recovered. “Don’t you find that really common in our job anyway though?”

Phil frowned. Maybe this man didn’t work with him. Oh Christ, was Phil talking to one of the big shots here unknowingly? He didn’t know if this was terrible or brilliant. Knowing Phil, probably terrible.

“Um, I just work at the station,” Phil said quietly.

“Oh,” replied his acquaintance. “Sorry, I just assumed- never mind. Well then, just be glad you don’t have to do this all the time.”

“I am, don’t worry,” Phil assured him.

“I’m Dan, by the way,” the man said, and Phil’s stomach turned to ice.

No wonder the voice had sounded so familiar, oh god. He was stood in a dark corner with Dan Howell, and he’d essentially just told him that he didn’t like his job that much, and now they were going to emerge at some point, and Dan was going to realise he’d spent some of his precious time with a nobody like Phil, just some kid he’d laughed at one time.

It frustrated him to no end that stood here just the two of them, Dan seemed like a decent guy.

“Oh, my name’s-”

Phil was saved by the bell, or rather the static noise of a microphone being batted too hard. Of course it was bloody on, weren’t they always?

“Evening, ladies and gentlemen,” began the head of the radio station, and Phil realised he’d better step out and have a listen to this. Dan seemed to feel the same way, and they crept out of their spot silently, making their way to the crowd gathered on the dancefloor and for some unknown reason, staying fairly close. Phil avoided looking at Dan, even as he could feel the man’s gaze on him the entire time.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming out here tonight,” the boss continued, and everyone smiled in that bland, forced way. “It’s great to be spending Christmas Eve with so many of our employees and special guests, and I hope you all have a great time tonight. Now I won’t bore you with a speech, but I do have a few things to say, as ever.”

Phil was strangely pleased to find Dan didn’t laugh at that either.

“I’d firstly like to thank the whole crew at the radio station for another great year. Every member of the team is very much valued, and we couldn’t do it without each and every one of you…”

Phil let his voice wash over him as he glanced round at the room, ignoring the individual thank yous being handed out. He sincerely doubted a level three IT guy was going to receive praise. Eventually there was a smattering of applause, and Phil assumed the speech was finally over, as music filled the hall again, drowning out the low hum of chatter that had started up.

“That was thrilling,” Dan muttered to Phil, and Phil leapt a foot in the air. He hadn’t even realised Dan was still next to him, assuming he’d have gone to talk to someone far more interesting than Phil by now. Phil couldn’t help himself, letting out a laugh, and Dan’s entire face lit up in response, taking Phil by surprise. “Sorry if this is a little out of the blue, and I do understand if you want to go and hide again… but did you maybe want to dance for a little bit?”

A rational person would have said no. Phil Lester would have said no. Given the facts - his dislike for Dan Howell combined with his desire to stay invisible most of the time - Phil Lester should have said no.

So why the hell he found himself nodding at Dan, he did not know.

He blamed the shots, and the way the fairy lights around the room caught Dan’s brown eyes and made them look honeyed, the way his usually straight hair was just a little curled at the ends from the heat of the party, and the way his cheeks were bright pink at the question he’d just asked.

“Okay,” Phil said quietly, setting his glass down on a nearby table next to Dan’s, and then nervously following him into the centre of the floor amongst all of the other couples dancing.

It wasn’t like anyone was watching them, and they certainly weren’t watching him in any case. If anyone glanced their way, it was definitely to see Dan, and there was only a brief moment of surprise at seeing his arms around someone else, before they’d move on. Phil was so, so grateful for his mask at that moment.

“I’ve never really done this before,” Dan muttered to Phil, as he held his arms limply around Phil’s waist, and Phil couldn’t help but smile at him a little fondly.

“Hold me a little tighter,” Phil instructed him in a quiet voice, and Dan did as he was told, albeit with red cheeks. As he did so, Phil wrapped his arms around Dan’s neck, and then they began to sway, Phil taking the lead.

Given his own ability for tripping over his own two feet, and Dan’s evident discomfort, they didn’t attempt much else, just moving from side to side in the same spot, entirely out of time to the music. Phil wasn’t quite sure why Dan had even asked him to dance, given that he seemed so uncomfortable with the idea, but Phil couldn’t deny that he wasn’t complaining.

The Christmas music and decorations that surrounded them gave the room a magical feel, and he enjoyed Dan’s arms around his waist a little too much. It had been a long time since Phil had danced with anyone, since anyone had taken much of an interest with him, and even if this was Dan Howell, who would drop Phil the moment he found out who he was, or wasn’t, it was surprisingly nice for the moment.

“So I never caught your name,” Dan said as they got into their flow, and Phil looked down.

“Doesn’t matter,” Phil mumbled.

“Nice to meet you, doesn’t matter,” Dan teased, but didn’t push it.

Phil was starting to get the feeling that Dan’s shy act wasn’t such an act after all, and that was incredibly dangerous. It meant Phil really had no good reason to dislike the man, and he already knew that it was going to take a long time to forget this dance. His head was being drawn towards resting on Dan’s chest, and it took all he had to resist, knowing there were some lines that shouldn’t be crossed, and that Dan had probably just had too much to drink to be doing this in the first place.

They swayed through six different songs, until Dan’s cheeks were scarlet, and Phil gently suggested they stop. He didn’t want Dan passing out on him, Jesus.

“I might step outside for some air,” Dan agreed, dropping his arms from Phil and immediately leaving a sense of loss behind. Phil went to say goodbye, say something inane like ‘see you around’ when he knew full well that if he ever saw Dan Howell again, he’d probably be tripping over in a corridor again, but Dan beat him to it. “I don’t know if you want to join me?”

“Sure,” Phil smiled brightly, his stomach somersaulting at the thought, and oh this was pretty bad. He desperately tried not to think of Dan playing that piano, how beautiful he looked in his suit tonight, how he was smiling both encouragingly and nervously at Phil as they made their way single file through the crowds. For some reason, Dan seemed terrified that Phil was going to leave him, as if Phil was the interesting one here.

“Sorry,” Dan said as they burst out onto a little balcony, and Phil closed the glass doors behind them, unsure as to why. “I’m not so great with crowds.”

“Don’t worry, neither am I,” Phil said sympathetically, resting a hand on Dan’s arm as he leaned across the stone of the balcony wall, unsure of what he was doing.

“Thanks,” Dan said gratefully. “No one ever believes me, as if I should be completely fine with everything because I can get up on a stage and sing, but they never seem to get that it’s completely different.”

Phil’s stomach twisted with something like guilt this time, and he looked up at the moon for a distraction. This all felt very surreal, and he was just glad that Dan would probably get bored in five minutes, and head back inside. Then things could go back to being normal, and Phil could move on from the fact that he’d just danced with Dan Howell, that Dan Howell was now placing his hand atop Phil’s and smiling at him shyly, and that Dan Howell was making his heart flutter in a way Phil had never felt.

Dan did not get bored in five minutes.

Two hours later and they were both stood on the balcony still. It turned out Dan wasn’t far from perfect. Excellent music taste, an enviable array of video games and boxsets, and he spoke so animatedly, hands gesturing wildly, and his eyes shining when he spoke about the subjects he truly loved. Phil swallowed hard, willing himself to remember that Dan was a famous musician and he was a measly IT guy, and maybe he was dreaming.

“Are you ever going to tell me your name?” Dan asked suddenly, after things had fallen silent between them.

Phil was gazing up at the stars, leaning on the balcony, and Dan was right next to him, arm and leg flush against Phil’s, sending a fire through his body.

“S’Phil,” he muttered, turning to face Dan, who was smiling at him.

“Well, Phil,” he began. “Thank you for making what promised to be a very shitty evening into one that was pretty okay.”

“Pretty okay?” Phil teased, shaking his head at Dan.

“More than okay,” Dan said softly, leaning closer to Phil.

There was less than an inch between them, and Phil couldn’t help thinking that this was possibly the most romantic situation he’d ever been in, and all he could think was how wonderful it was. Bathed in moonlight on a private balcony, quiet Christmas music floating through to them, and lights everywhere, both inside and out. Dan lifted Phil’s mask away from his face and his eyes searched Phil’s looking for permission, and Phil hoped that they conveyed the yes he wanted to give Dan.

This was very bad, and he scolded himself even as he felt his eyes closing, Dan leaning ever closer. Their lips brushed once, and then-

“Phil! Taxi’s here!”

Dan and Phil sprang apart, looking at each other as if they were confused as to how they’d even gotten into that position, and then looking at PJ, startled.

“Sorry,” Phil muttered suddenly, hurrying to his friend, who looked both confused and horrified at the moment he’d interrupted.

“My bad,” PJ began, but Phil just shook his head, pushing his way inside, and grabbing his coat and scarf helpfully provided by his friend. It had been a good night, and now it was over, and that was that.

“Wait,” Dan cried helplessly, reaching out for Phil’s wrist. “You can’t just go.”

“I’m really sorry,” Phil said, and he was, so very sorry.

“Can I at least get your number?” Dan asked desperately, but Phil glanced over to where PJ was already heading for the side door, waving him over frantically. Phil knew what London taxis were like, and he gave Dan one last apologetic look before slipping out of his grasp and racing after his friend. He was vaguely aware of the leather around his wrist slipping off, but didn’t have time to consider it, knowing he was going to struggle to get home if he didn’t catch this taxi now.

Dan Howell watched Phil go, wonderful, mysterious Phil, with the bright blue eyes that had hypnotised him out on that balcony, with the body Dan wanted to hold again and the lips he’d been deprived of. He was left standing there with a leather bracelet in his hand and a sorrowful expression on his face.

He needed to find Phil again. There was no choice in the matter; Phil owed him a kiss.

_to be continued…_


	2. Happy New Year, Too

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I Wish You Merry Christmas: Phil Lester, begrudingly attending work’s Christmas Eve party, happens upon Dan Howell, famous musician and not someone Phil’s a fan of. Cue awkward dancing, near-kisses, and a taxi that leaves at midnight sharp.
> 
> Happy New Year, Too: Phil Lester, huge fan of New Year’s Eve parties where everyone has a good time with minimal drama, not such a big fan of people ringing his doorbell persistently. Dan Howell, huge fan of being booked for concerts and actually attending them, until now.
> 
> Hints of Cinderella, a sprinkle of Love Actually, and a bunch of festive goodness.

“Phil. Phil. Phil, oh my god, Lester, you have to see this, come and look.”

“No thank you,” Phil mumbled, his eyes only half-open.

It was half six in the morning on Boxing Day, and PJ was one hundred per cent too excitable to be working with right now.

“Phil, come on, hardly anyone’s in, they’re not going to mind us being on our phones.”

Phil went to explain that it was less the getting in trouble part that he was resistant to, and more the having any sort of human communication whatsoever, but sometimes it was easier to just go with it. They got to leave by ten, and then he wasn’t in again until New Year’s Eve, so today’s shift was just about bearable. He yawned widely.

“What is it?” he mumbled, blinking blearily at the phone screen PJ was shoving into his face. It took him a few moments to let his eyes adjust, and the moment they had, PJ was shaking it around again, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“It’s Dan Howell! Dan Howell has your bracelet, and he’s posted it online, and this, my friend, is your claim to fame!”

Phil continued to blink at him, and then processed his words slowly, taking the phone from PJ and properly looking at the screen this time.

On Dan’s official page, there was a photograph of a leather bracelet, that was unmistakeably his. It had the strange flick at one end, where it had gotten wet one time, and the green splodge from when he’d helped PJ decorate his new house. It took Phil a few moments just to digest that, and then he started reading the caption.

On Christmas Eve, someone lost this bracelet at an event I was attending, and I’d really like to return it to them! Maybe it’s important to them, maybe it’s not, but please share this around, and help me find its owner!  
\- Dan xxx

The worst part was that he’d followed that by quoting one of his own lyrics, and Phil nearly threw up a little in his mouth. Phil scanned the page, noting that it had been posted yesterday, had over a hundred thousand likes, hundreds of comments, and several tens of thousands of shares. It made him feel mildly ill, but he savoured the image because he knew one thing for sure; it would definitely be the last time he ever saw that bracelet.

He didn’t know why Dan was even doing this; most people would have just looked at the bracelet Phil had left in their hand, shrugged, and then moved on with their life, because who was interested in a person who just left without saying goodbye after an evening together? Phil laughed at himself. He’d fallen under Dan’s spell a few nights ago, just as everyone else did at some point. The atmosphere and the masks and the lighting, it had all added up and made Dan seem perfect, lovely, different to the person Phil thought he knew, but he’d been wrong.

As evidenced by this post, Dan was exactly the arrogant celebrity Phil had thought he was, and that was that.

Okay so maybe that was a little harsh. He was at least trying to return Phil’s bracelet, which was sweet, and Phil could deny it all he wanted, but he had enjoyed his time with Dan. They’d laughed, and they’d swapped cute stories, and Dan had grinned at him a few times in a way that made Phil grip his glass a little too hard, but that was it.

It had been Christmas, and he’d let himself get swept away. Now Christmas was over, and it was back to work, and if Phil ever chanced upon Dan again, he wouldn’t recognise him anyway. Problem solved.

“So how are you going to contact him?” asked PJ eagerly, flopping into his desk chair and looking at Phil expectantly.

Really there was no point in either of them being in; with a skeleton staff for the week, and nothing huge scheduled until New Year’s Eve, the chances of something going wrong for the technical team were very slim. Still, Phil could guarantee that the one day no one was in, the whole radio station would go down, which also happened to be a situation he was worried he’d get himself into every single day.

“What do you mean, how am I going to contact him?” Phil snorted, pointedly sitting down in his own desk chair and firing up his emails, despite the fact his inbox was near-empty. “I’m not.”

It took a whole five seconds for PJ to digest this, and then he whizzed his chair up to Phil’s, and looked at him as if he’d gone absolutely mad.

“Are you kidding me? Why the hell not? You have not shut up about the fact you spent Christmas Eve with Dan Howell-”

“That’s a lie.”

“-going on, and on, and on about how kind he was, how different he was from the persona everyone thinks he’s got, how funny and sweet and charming he was, how you almost kissed, how you danced, how his eyes were-”

“I swear to god.”

“-magical-”

“At no point did I say magical.”

“-and now you’re just going to give up on him? Phil, he’s asking for you to come forward! He’s posted your bracelet on all of his social media sites, reaching millions and millions of people, and you’re just going to ignore that?”

Phil blinked at PJ, and then nodded.

“Yes. Yes I am.”

“You are infuriating,” PJ groaned, trying to make Phil see sense, but Phil was having none of it.

“And you’re irritating. Do you have that file I asked you for before Christmas?”

PJ stared at him for a little longer, but finally seemed to accept that Phil wasn’t budging on the issue, and with an almighty huff, went back to his own desk and sent Phil the file in an email with no text.

Petty.

PJ lasted ten minutes, ten blissful minutes, before breaking the silence he clearly couldn’t stand.

“Are we still doing New Year’s Eve at yours?”

“Yeah, if you want to,” Phil replied, secretly hoping that the answer was yes.

His old flatmate had moved out a month ago, and Phil had yet to find a replacement, which meant the festive season had been pretty lonely. He hadn’t really intended to go to his parents for Christmas Day, but spending it alone just seemed too miserable, which was why he’d found himself driving back to London again at one in the morning, ready to be up for five. No wonder he was tired.

“Of course!” PJ grinned, his irritation at Phil over the Dan matter instantly forgotten. “Who else is coming?”

“The usual,” Phil shrugged. “Our lot, and a few from here. Think your Chris is the only one who said he couldn’t make it, but he did say plans might change.”

“I’ll text him, make him change his mind,” PJ smiled mischievously, and Phil rolled his eyes.

“You can’t bully him into coming to a party, Peej.”

“I managed to get you to the one the other night, didn’t I?”

“I think there’ll be about ten or twelve of us in total,” Phil said, choosing to ignore that comment. “Everyone’s bringing drinks, but I’ve got some champagne in ready-”

“Fancy.”

“Shut up.”

“Who are you kissing at midnight?” PJ asked after a pause.

“I have no idea.”

“Who do you want to kiss?” PJ smirked.

At that, Phil pointedly put his headphones on and played about with something on his computer, leaving PJ to finally get back to work, snickering at his friend.

Phil groaned internally to himself. He was never going to see Dan again. It was time to move on.

—

Oh how Phil loved New Year’s Eve parties.

His tiny apartment felt more like home than it had in weeks, with his closest friends milling around, relaxing on his sofas or grouped together catching up. Phil was just stood leaning against the doorway smiling, glass of wine in hand, watching the scene, and laughing as two of his best friends fought over the music.

Today had been a long day at work, and it was nice to come home and relax, and not be sat alone in an empty apartment for once.

His kitchen counter was a mess of bottles, enough alcohol to make his head spin, and a load of party food, entirely untouched. Phil wandered back in there again, absentmindedly grabbing a handful of pretzels and glancing at the muted television running for no real reason.

There was some terrible concert going on down at the riverbank, full of music artists that Phil heard day in, day out, scheduled to carry on before midnight and afterwards too. He’d tried so hard to avoid looking at the lineup, but had obviously failed and scanned the list. Dan Howell was supposed to play the very last set before the countdown began, ready to welcome in the new year with the presenters.

Phil really wouldn’t have cared for that information at all, if it weren’t for the fact that Dan was currently all over his social media and the entertainment news.

The story of Dan trying to trace the owner of Phil’s bloody bracelet had gathered momentum, a budding romance that journalists had instantly given a Cinderella-esque twist to, and it probably didn’t help that Phil still refused to come forward, because the mystery just continued. It was exactly what was needed during the lull between Christmas and New Year, and even though Dan was yet to say anything on the topic, Phil bet anything that he was loving it.

This really hadn’t bothered Phil until yesterday, when Dan had silently just taken down the bracelet post from his pages, sparking a new flurry of excitement over the update in the story. Phil could swear the story had been trending at one point, which was really just testament to the lack of events over Christmas, as well as the fluff for news that the British public enjoyed consuming.

And maybe Phil was bitter, just a little, but he wasn’t jealous.

Clearly had someone had just come forward, pretending to be him, and Dan had believed them, and Phil wished them all the luck in the world. Either that or Dan had just given up, but Phil found it hard to believe that was the case.

One of Dan’s music videos appeared on the screen in front of him and Phil crushed his final pretzel in his fist.

He definitely wasn’t jealous.

And he definitely didn’t feel like an idiot right now.

Why the hell had he not got in touch with Dan? PJ had urged him to almost every day, but Phil was just stubborn, helplessly trying to construct an entirely different Dan in his head, one more aligned with the impression he’d had of him before Christmas Eve, just to try and save himself the inevitable embarrassment. They’d had so much in common though, and Dan had seemed so sweet, so different, and Phil found himself wondering once more if they could have had something, but unable to do a thing about it.

Not that he’d ever tell PJ that, obviously.

There was some speculation that Dan would be bringing the mystery woman - Phil had snorted to himself - to the New Year’s Eve event, but bias aside, Phil found that hard to believe. Dan just didn’t seem like that type of person. And then he rolled his eyes at himself, because he didn’t know Dan, had spoken to him for just a few hours, and he was acting as if he had some sort of claim on him.

“What are you doing skulking in here, loner?” someone asked from behind him, and Phil turned to find his friend Carrie stood behind him, someone else PJ had pestered until she’d agreed to come.

“Just getting something to drink,” Phil said, realising too late that his wine glass was still half full and he was nowhere near the bottles.

“Whatever you say,” Carrie laughed, heading over to grab a can of cider. “We’re going to play a game, if you want to come join before we start?”

“Oh yeah, what?” Phil asked, thinking a nice game of Scrabble would go down well with the relaxed atmosphere.

“Twister,” Carrie grinned, a sparkle in her eye.

—

One hour and three games of Twister later, Phil was precariously hovering above PJ, his hand stretched awkwardly behind him, arm shaking and ready to give at any moment.

“Give in, Lester,” PJ said through gritted teeth.

“Never,” Phil giggled.

It was safe to say they were all pretty merry, and everyone was laughing at the game probably harder than was strictly necessary.

Someone went to spin the wheel again, but Phil’s doorbell rang, and he caved, collapsing on top of his friend with a huff and springing up to go and answer it.

“Jesus,” PJ groaned as Phil landed on him, and Phil just shot him a grin before heading out into the hallway.

Behind him, he could hear everyone starting to clear the game away, and then one of the girls realised there were only ten minutes to midnight, and before long they’d be starting the countdown. Phil hoped that whoever was at the door wouldn’t take too long. He was going to be very miffed if someone had ordered pizza, given how long it had taken him to figure out how to cook those stupid mini quiches.

Phil pulled the door open, eyes bright and cheeks red, a little breathless still, but found no one there.

“Phil, come on, you don’t want to miss it!” someone yelled, and Phil blinked at the empty space in front of his door before closing it again. New Year’s Eve was a strange time to be pulling pranks, he thought, but shrugged it off and joined his friends again.

Someone had switched Phil’s main television on to watch the countdown and the fireworks display, and Phil paused in the doorway, smiling again at the sight in front of him. Most of his friends had other halves, stood next to one another with arms around waists and heads leaning on shoulders. His other friends were curled up next to one another on the sofa, everyone watching the show.

His apartment felt warm, and loved, and it was almost enough to help Phil forget about everything else for a moment, just stand here and enjoy the company of his friends, and hope that next year, he wouldn’t be quite so lonely, and maybe his job would start taking him places.

“And now, the act you’ve all been waiting for!” the presenter said excitedly on the TV, and PJ glanced over at Phil, smirking knowingly. He was the only person who knew what had happened at the Christmas Eve party, and Phil would not hesitate in strangling him into silence if he decided to tipsily reveal everything. “Dan Howell is here to count us down to midnight!”

There was applause from the crowds gathered at the Thames, and Phil rolled his eyes.

Maybe that was his New Year’s resolution; to not react to mentions of Dan Howell.

“Does anyone else find this guy really irritating?” one of Phil’s friends chuckled from the sofa, and everyone laughed with him. Save Phil, who couldn’t help himself and still felt a little offended.

The doorbell rang again, and everyone glanced to the doorway, looking confused.

“Who was there before?” PJ asked Phil.

“No one,” Phil shrugged.

“Probably just some kids,” Chris from HR suggested. “I’d ignore it.”

“It’s okay, it’ll only take a second,” Phil said, shaking his head.

He wandered back down his hallway, a little annoyed that someone was interrupting his New Year’s Eve, but he’d never forgive himself if it was one of his neighbours needing help and he just ignored them. His living room exploded into laughter and shrieking as he left, and he frowned, not wanting to miss out on the fun.

“Phil!” someone suddenly yelled, and he jumped a mile. “You have to get back in here, this is hilarious!”

“What is?” Phil called as he fumbled with the bolt on his door.

“That singer, Dan what’s-his-name, he’s not there! They’re all waiting for him on stage but he’s not there, it’s so awkward! Come and see! Where the hell is he?” he heard them all discussing.

Phil blinked at the man stood in the doorway, wondering if he was seeing things.

Either he’d had way, way too much to drink, or the answer to his friend’s question was that Dan Howell was currently stood on Phil Lester’s doorstep, looking incredibly nervous, playing with his hair, and generally appearing as though he very much regretted this decision.

“I rang the doorbell before, but chickened out,” Dan said breathlessly, offering Phil a small smile, as if it was perfectly acceptable that that was the first thing he was saying.

“What- what are you doing here?” Phil asked in a squeaky voice, full of questions and not even sure where to begin. “How did you find me? How do you even know who I am? Aren’t you meant to be in central London, like, right now?”

“Um, yes,” Dan said, sounding both terrified but amused. “Speaking of, can I step inside? If anyone sees me…”

“Oh, er, sure,” Phil said, stepping aside so Dan could shuffle past him, closing the door behind him.

They stood there, very close together in Phil’s tiny corridor, the only light coming from the open door to the living room, and very unhelpfully, Phil’s mind supplied him with the memory of the two of them tucked into that alcove at the dance.

“Phil, who is it?” someone asked, and Phil turned to the sound, not even sure where to begin.

“Um, just- I’ll be there in a second!”

“Well they’re starting the countdown, so don’t be long!”

Phil turned back to Dan, and then folded his arms, not having a clue what to do next. Surely he had to be drunk? Maybe he’d even passed out and was dreaming; that would also explain why he’d agreed to play three rounds of Twister with his friends.

“Hear me out,” Dan said abruptly, clearly getting some sort of impression that Phil was about to throw him out. “I’m sorry to bother you on New Year’s Eve, I thought it would be a good idea but er, well, I’m starting to think maybe it wasn’t, because you look kind of… well anyway, I’m here now, and I need to give you this.”

Dan reached into his pocket, and Phil took a moment to finally appreciate Dan’s appearance. He was wearing a beautiful suit, which looked like it cost about the same amount as Phil’s apartment, and Phil was struck with the notion that this was probably what he was meant to have performed in. And that it looked very good on him.

“You left it with me on Christmas Eve.”

Dan handed Phil back his bracelet, complete with curly end and green speck of paint, and Phil couldn’t help but bite back a smile.

“Phil, I swear to god! They’re starting!” someone called, and then the familiar chanting began. “Ten!”

Phil ignored his friends and looked up at Dan, who he could tell was worried even in the semi-darkness.

“So you skipped out on a huge performance to come to my apartment, me being a complete stranger, on New Year’s Eve, to give me my bracelet back?” Phil said dubiously, and he could tell Dan was blushing now.

“Five!”

“You’re not a complete stranger.”

“Four!”

“I may as well be, what were you thinking?”

“Three!”

“Do you ever stop complaining?”

“Two!”

“Um-”

“One!”

Phil was going to have to stop making a habit of dropping his bracelet, but it was very difficult to concentrate on holding it when Dan Howell was giving him a New Year’s kiss, one hand on the small of Phil’s back, the other gently pressed to his cheek, while Phil instantly let his hands tangle their way into Dan’s hair, sighing into the kiss happily.

“Happy New Year,” Dan whispered as they stepped away from one another, and he was smiling even though Phil could see he was fighting to keep a straight face.

“Aren’t you in a lot of trouble?” Phil whispered back.

“…yes.”

Phil stared at him, awed, and then let out a laugh.

He was definitely dreaming. He’d spent Christmas Eve dancing with a singer he really, truly disliked, realised that after only a few hours in his company, he wasn’t all that bad, had then left him without even saying goodbye, refused to ever get in contact with him again, and now he was stood here, a week later, with said singer in his tiny little hallway while his friends yelled at him from his living room.

“But I’m just-”

“Phil, for Christ’s sake,” Dan groaned, exasperated, and Phil took slight offence, given that they had still only known each other for a handful of hours total. “You nearly kissed me on Christmas Eve, and then literally ran away from me, so I spend a week trying to find the man I danced with and when I finally find you, you’re trying to tell me I shouldn’t have done so?”

Phil chewed his lip, and offered Dan a weak smile.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling a face, and Dan rolled his eyes, which Phil also took offence at. “Did you er- did you want to come in? So we can maybe, you know, not talk in the darkness?”

“Sure,” Dan laughed, gesturing for Phil to lead the way.

They wandered into the living room together, and while it took him by surprise, Phil decided it was definitely a good thing that Dan had grabbed his hand on the way, because he felt like he was about to keel over. That, or wake up from whatever strange dream he was having.

“So, um,” Phil began as they appeared in the doorway, a few of his friends turning to face him in confusion, while PJ’s entire face lit up.

“You know, that Dan Howell never showed up at all, he seems like a right dick,” Chris said to Phil, still watching the baffled show presenters on the TV.

“I agree,” Dan muttered, and the rest of the room swivelled their heads round to the couple in the doorway, varying degrees of shock on their faces.

A moment of silence passed, and Phil swallowed nervously.

“So, this is Dan,” Phil said, raising their linked hands as if nothing had happened and it was totally normal for him to have music artists in his flat. “And we’re, we’re just going to go and, go and talk. See you in a minute.”

Phil abruptly dragged Dan back into the corridor and along to his bedroom, hoping Dan didn’t get the wrong impression.

“I thought you were just awkward with lots of people around, but you’re just awkward all the time, aren’t you?” Dan asked, sounding amused.

Phil turned to glare at him, dropping his hand, and Dan placed his hands on Phil’s shoulders before they could reach his room, stopping him in his tracks.

“I know that this is probably not how you expected your New Year’s Eve to go at all, but honestly, Phil, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the other day, and it was only getting worse when I wasn’t getting any responses to my posts about your bracelet. I’m not usually this spontaneous, or crazy, or- I don’t know, maybe stupid, because I’m probably in so much trouble, but I just wanted to see you again, and something in me thought this was a good idea. But if you’re not comfortable with me being here, I can just go, and we can pretend that-”

“I thought you just talked too much in interviews, but you talk too much all the time, don’t you?” Phil countered, and effectively shut Dan up by finally giving him a proper kiss, the one they’d been denied on Christmas Eve. “It’s fine, don’t worry, I’m just adjusting, these weren’t the New Year’s plans I was expecting, you know? But I guess it’s been pretty okay.”

“Pretty okay?” Dan smirked against Phil’s lips.

—

“This is Phil Lester over and out, hoping everyone has a great New Year’s Eve! Goodbyeeeee.”

Phil tapped his outro music on the screen in front of him and lowered his microphone volume, before slipping off his headphones and grabbing his jacket. He had two hours until midnight, and places to be in that time.

“Happy New Year, Phil!” his producer called as he bolted from the building, and he just about had time to wave and return the sentiment before he was dashing down the corridor, tumbling out of the building just a few minutes later and flagging down the first taxi he saw.

“Victoria Embankment, please,” Phil said breathlessly as he hopped in. “For the fireworks.”

“Good luck getting in,” his driver chuckled as he set off, but Phil shook his head.

“Oh I’m not going to watch the fireworks, my boyfriend’s performing at the concert.”

“Is that so? He one of the warm-up acts?” the taxi driver asked cheerfully, completely oblivious.

“Yeah, something like that,” Phil grinned.

It took them forever to get into the city, the traffic snarled up with the celebrations, and Phil was impatient. He hadn’t seen Dan since the end of the Christmas Eve party, at which he was forced to walk the red carpet this year, while PJ waved at him from the side entrance, Phil doing his best to smile next to Dan and not shoot daggers at his friend. As PJ always reminded him, Phil could never get angry at him, because it was down to him that Dan and Phil were dating. As Phil always reminded him, hacking his social media to message Dan wasn’t normal friend behaviour.

Phil disliked the red carpet entrance, intensely, but apparently since Phil now had a radio show himself, and was dating the year’s top-selling artist, it wouldn’t look right if he and Dan went in separately. At least, that’s what Dan had said anyway. Phil was inclined to believe he was just a wuss.

“This is as close as I can get you,” the cabbie said finally, turning round to face Phil.

“Thanks!” Phil said hurriedly, handing over some cash and hopping out, before frantically making his way to the backstage area.

He patted down his pockets, checking for the fiftieth time that he had his ID, because Dan had warned him that if he had to come out of his dressing room to get him in one more time… No, it was fine, Phil had it, and Dan was five minutes away, all was good. Well, until he nearly crashed into someone while racing down to Dan’s dressing room, but aside from that, all was good.

“Happy New Year!” Phil said excitedly as he slipped inside without knocking, which he always did. Unfortunately he’d only caught Dan in a state of undress twice.

“Happy New Year,” Dan grinned, spinning to face him from adjusting his hair and burying himself in Phil for a hug, before giving him a quick kiss.

“How are you feeling?” Phil asked, straightening Dan’s hair from where he’d mussed it up against Phil’s coat.

“Like I might throw up any minute.”

“Brilliant!” Phil laughed, and Dan hit him playfully. “Look on the bright side, at least they let you back.”

“With a significant pay cut,” Dan smirked, shaking his head. “Whatever, it was worth it.”

“What was that?” Phil teased. “Didn’t quite catch what you said, could you maybe, possible repeat-”

“May I remind you that I did all of the hard work when it came to this?” Dan muttered, using a finger to gesture between the two of them. “You just ran away and refused to get back in contact with me. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“I am so very lucky to be dating the world’s most arrogant musician, who likes to remind everyone on a daily basis of how wonderful he is, and enjoys sharing his own lyrics online-”

“People like that!”

“No one likes that,” Phil finished, giving Dan a kiss on the cheek. “The only reason I’ve stuck around is because your dancing skills have improved.”

“Shut up,” Dan laughed, poking him in the ribs and making Phil squeak, before checking his watch. “Okay, they need me. I’m glad you were able to get out of work on time.”

“I’m pretty sure I finished the show five minutes early, but I don’t think anyone will notice.”

“Nope, it’s not like it’s the biggest radio station in the country,” Dan smiled at him, and then disappeared through the door, blowing Phil a kiss before it closed behind him. Phil rolled his eyes; he still really disliked Dan Howell at times.

Still, he couldn’t deny that a year after the relaxed-turned-eventful New Year’s Eve party at his place, it was still his favourite night of the year. And maybe, just maybe, he was warming to the Christmas parties too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted to tumblr last year with different titles - uploading them now before it's embarrassingly long after the festive season.


End file.
